


feels deep within me

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU August, Angst, Forbidden Love, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Multi, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Fitz and Jemma come from two rival families, but that is not a good enough reason to prevent them from loving each other. Daisy Johnson would do anything to make sure they can be happy together, except admit to her own feelings.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 31
Collections: (I'll stop the world and) Melt with you {Romantic Fitzskimmons}, AOS AU August 2020, Florchis does AU August





	feels deep within me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everythinghappensforareason17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythinghappensforareason17/gifts).



> Written for the prompt "Forbidden Love" for @aosficnet2 AU August. Shout-out to @lazyfish who suggested I wrote a Romeo/Juliet/Benvolio AU. This is... whatever my mind got from that idea.

A note is written.

_Fitz-_

_I will break in into your parents’ garden tonight. Meet me at the fountain at 11 pm? Don’t worry, Daisy will take care of scrapping the footage from the cameras!_

_Love you,_

_Jemma_

Daisy can’t break her eyes away from Jemma’s nimble fingers running through the paper while she writes it. She has seen those fingers in so many circumstances: baking cupcakes at 3 am with her; wiping away tears from her eyes; stained with ink and reactants and blood; enclosed lovingly in Daisy’s own fists, protected from the outside world.

She has seen those fingers in so many different circumstances with the passing years, and she has loved them always, so to now watch them writing a note to her lover, is at the same time beautiful and heartbreaking. To rip herself from the enchantment, when Jemma gives her the note she holds it in a tight fist- and if it wrinkles a little, well, it probably is only adding to the drama of it all- and schools her features into a scowl. Not exactly what she is feeling, but something close enough that she can convey.

“You know you could send him an e-mail or something, right? I highly doubt his father is paranoid enough to check his cellphone.”

“Never put something that despisable above Allistar Fitz, Daisy,” admonishes Jemma in a tone of voice that makes her sound like her older brother and makes Daisy’s stomach turn. Just because Jemma fell in love with the heir of her family’s top rival company doesn’t mean she has completely distilled their prejudices from her mind.

Daisy can only envision a bitter ending for them, but she wants long-lasting happiness for them both hard enough to never dare give her fears a full form, even inside her mind.

* * *

It is easy to sneak around when you are nobody.

Sure, probably the Fitzs have poked around her info and the people running the checks know that she is a childhood friend of Jemma that the Simmons girl never fully grew tired of. But having no place of origin and no clear future path makes you invisible when it comes to big, rich families. The Simmons let her hang around because she hasn’t been a threat yet and the Fitzs don’t even register her, which allows Daisy to wait for Fitz outside class one day and pull him inside an empty classroom. It won’t take long for one of his friends slash low-key bodyguards to notice he is gone, but it is a lot more than Jemma would ever be able to pull off.

Daisy tries to take pride in that while she pushes the crumpled note towards his chest. She is the one making this possible. Does she want to be the one making this possible?

“From Jemma. She has been having a penchant for the dramatics lately.”

Fitz nods while he scans the note quickly, an absent smile on his lips. After he is done reading it, he almost puts it inside his pocket, but changes his mind at the last second, unfolds it again and places a kiss on top of Jemma’s curvy, neurotic handwriting. He gives the scrap of paper back to Daisy. It stings on her hand like an ember. 

“Thank you, Daisy,” he says, and her gut- that hasn’t untwisted since last night with Jemma- only keeps on hurting.

He looks like he would like to say something else, or maybe like he would like to touch her, but Daisy squirrels away before he can do either. If the paper he touched alone is enough to burn a hole in her hand, what could his skin on hers do? 

“Don’t mention it,” she mumbles before disappearing outside again.

She waits till he leaves the classroom a whole minute later and seamlessly blends in with his friends again to allow herself to crumble to the floor and leave out one- but only one- sob.

* * *

Her memory of the first day Jemma used her as an emissary is crystal clear: Fitz’s blue eyes dashing in his grey suit; the way she felt awful while trying to fall through the cracks of these preppy people in her cheap dark pink dress; how despite everything somehow he made her feel a thousand bucks with only looking at her with a genuine smile.

They danced together and she used the closed proximity to whisper in his ear everything Jemma wanted her to tell him, and some other things of her own volition: how shiny Jemma’s eyes got when thinking about him, all the poetic she waxed about him in a blue shirt, how Daisy was so so glad that in the midst of so much hatred they could find this small seed of love.

Fitz danced with her decently, smiled warmly, and fake-coughed at all the appropriate spots. When she was leaving, he held her wrist differently- it was not a perfunctory, social hold, but a charged one- and looked straight in her eyes while saying, “Daisy. I love Jemma, but when we all run into each other at the beach, I thought it was you who had taken a liking in me. And it would have pleased me immensely too.”

He has that way of speaking like a fucking prince charming, she thought on her way back home while she typed smiley faces to Jemma in the middle of tears.

* * *

“Wish me luck,” asks Jemma while she does a twirl in her should-be-illegal black dress and the halo of her perfume is so strong that it makes Daisy’s lips numb.

“Come here.” Or maybe it is just the dreadful impulse to be the one smearing the lipstick on her best friend, she thinks while scratching a tiny red spot off with her nail. Or the one wearing it only to use it as a brand on the unblemished skin of Fitz’s collarbones. “Good luck, babe,” she says and she means it.

Jemma kisses her on the cheek and the spot burns for a long time after, even while she messes around to put the cameras on Fitz’s house on loops.

(No, she does not watch it long enough to see them embracing each other, smiling, idiots in love.

Maybe just for a little while.) 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Prompts
>   * Image reactions
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.



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